


Friends with Benefits

by orphan_account



Category: Little Shop of Horrors (1986)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Cutting, Gen, Light Masochism, Mild Blood, but it's a plant doing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Denton is sure he'll never find happiness. . . until he notices a certain baby plant in a certain backyard that's green.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends with Benefits

Arthur Denton walked glumly down the street, hands shoved deep in his pockets.  The walk from the bus stop back to his little house was always the worst part of the day.  He hated passing all the other neat, tidy little houses, with all their neat, tidy little lawns.  There was one in particular that really bugged him because the man and woman who lived there always looked so. . . so damn _happy_.  Often when Denton walked past on his way to the bus in the morning, the man would already be outside mowing the grass or they both would be playing with their dog, an irritatingly beautiful Springer Spaniel.  They had no children but that was going to change soon; the wife had been pregnant for several months now.

_Why does everyone around me have to be so **happy**?_ Denton wondered morosely.  He hadn't been happy in almost a year, not since he had finally found the first person who hadn't failed to please him, to give him just what he wanted.  Arthur Denton had felt alive for the first time in that dentist's chair, moaning with pleasure at the agony the other man had inflicted on him.  And then the guy had thrown him out.  Another one of _those_ , who only enjoyed his sadism if his victims were miserable.

_That's so utterly unhealthy,_ Denton thought as he kicked at a clump of grass growing from between the cracks in the sidewalk, _hurting people who don't enjoy it.  I could have given him everything he ever dreamed of. . . .  Just a few more root canals, and I would have been his forever._   But then, maybe it was just as well.  Denton had tried to make another appointment, give the guy another chance at what he didn't know he was missing, but Dr. Scrivello's practice had mysteriously closed.  Rumor was the guy had skipped town.  Typical really.  You finally find a good dentist; then it never lasts.  At least Denton hadn't gotten too attached.

That didn't make him feel any better now though.  Since that blissful half hour in Scrivello's chair, nothing had pleased him.  All other dental work paled in comparison, and his self-inflicted injuries were just no fun without someone else there to enjoy them.  If only he had the courage to go to the kinds of places where you found those sorts of people, the ones who liked the hurting but didn't go all weird on you when you enjoyed it too.

Maybe it was time to move out of town and find a new dentist.

Denton paused before the perfect house with its perfect yard and perfect dog asleep on the stoop.  It seemed to epitomize everything that was wrong with his life.  It was people like the couple in that house who made it hard for people like him.  They only reinforced the stereotype of what was normal, what was proper.  Then when someone like Arthur Denton came along, someone different, everyone thought he was weird just because he didn't want what they had.

_I'll find somebody, someday_ , he told himself.  Still, he'd like to show them, though.   Get back at them a little.

In his pocket, his fist was closed around the pocket knife he carried with him at all times, even into the shower.  (Especially into the shower.)  Using it on himself was nowhere near as glorious as having someone else do it, but it was all he had had for quite a while.  Smiling grimly to himself, he pulled it out and flipped it open.  That's what he'd do, drip a little blood on their perfect green lawn.  No one would ever know but him, but in a way that made it all the sweeter.  Twice every day he'd walk by that house and know secretly that he had contaminated their perfect yard, the way people like them had contaminated his life.

Denton looked down at his hands, trying to find the best place to cut.  Nothing that would bleed too much, since he'd have to go unnoticed if he passed anyone on the sidewalk before he reached home.  And it couldn't take very long-- someone might see him.  Finally he made a tiny cut on the pad of his left pointer finger.  He could squeeze out quite a bit of blood, but the cut would close quickly when he left it alone.

Immediately a drop of garnet-red fluid welled up from the cut.  Denton hissed with pleasure at the stinging sensation and pressed down just below the wound.  More blood oozed out, and he flicked his hand downward, sprinkling it on that perfect lawn.

"Yes," he moaned softly.  "How do you like that?"  Even though no one was in sight, the action gave him a slightly exhibitionist feeling.  It didn't completely destroy his melancholia, but it did feel pretty damn good.

Denton curled his fingers and turned away to start for home, praying that the rush would last longer this time.  Then he heard it-- a soft, wet noise like someone blowing kisses. . . or sucking on something.  Despite his earlier pleasure at the thought of hurting himself in public, Denton looked around fearfully.  What if someone had seen him loitering around the house and was going to call the police?

He heard it again.  The noise had a pleading quality to it, like a kitten mewing to be fed.  "Wh-who's there?" Denton stammered, then fell silent as he heard the noise a third time.  This time, he realized that it was coming from the ground.

Denton looked down at the edge of the lawn, more puzzled now than frightened.  He saw just the usual border of daisies and monkey grass, no kittens or voyeurs or anything else making kissing noises.  Then a slight movement caught his eye.

It was a plant, something like a cross between a rose and a cabbage.  The strange flower was slumped over on the ground as if it hadn't been watered in weeks, even though the daises around it seemed fresh and perky.  **_That_** _didn't move, did it?_

It had, and it moved again.  It lifted its heavy head as if it were looking up at him.  It had a sort of crevice arching across the middle of its odd blossom; as Denton watched in horrified amazement, the crevice puckered at the plant's top, and it made the sucking noise.  The thing almost looked like it was asking for a kiss.

It was turned toward his hand.

Denton looked down at his fingers; the cut one had continued to bleed since he had forgotten to put pressure on the wound.  The blood had collected under his fingernail.  Heart pounding, Denton extended his hand slowly towards the plant.  Its noises grew louder and it strained towards his hand, pushing itself up on its leaves like they were little hands.

_Oh hell.  It wants my blood._   First living thing that enjoyed his pain in almost a year, and it was a damn plant.

Denton moved his finger closer.  The plant snapped at it and he drew back involuntarily.  When the plant whimpered and puckered its lips again, Denton steeled himself and thrust his finger towards it.  The little creature clamped down on his finger with a pleased coo.

Denton groaned at the feeling of the plant's lips, such as they were, gripping his finger.  It didn't hurt as much as he had expected, but it hurt enough to feel good.  The plant had tiny little teeth that dug into his finger, and a small tongue probed at the cut.  The creature began to drink his blood, sucking on his finger with a force that made him moan with pleasure.

All too soon, the little plant released his finger, shivering in apparent delight.  Looking down, Denton saw that the bleeding had stopped even though his finger still stung pleasantly.  The plant cooed at him, then pursed its lips and made its sucking-kissing noise.

"You want more?" Denton breathed, his voice tight with excitement.  He made another, slightly larger cut on his third finger and offered it to the plant.  His new friend pressed its pursed lips to the cut, actually kissing his wounded finger, then began to lick off the fresh blood.

Denton could hardly sit still as the plant licked and sucked at its meal.  Finally, he had found someone who liked hurting him, and who didn't mind if he liked it too.  Someone who actually _benefited_ from the exchange-- someone who needed him.  The plant eventually drew back its blossom head and turned its slightly bloodied lips up to the sky like some sort of grotesque tulip.

"Had enough, hunh?"  Denton stroked it with a fingertip.  It made a soft noise of appreciation.

"Do you belong to them?  Did they plant you?"  The thought sent over him a new wave of hatred for the couple in the house.  On top of all their happiness, did they own this wondrous plant as well?

The plant shook its blossom from side to side a little; then the ends of the crevice turned up, almost as if it were smiling.  No, not almost-- it _was_ smiling at him.

Before Denton really knew what he was doing, he began digging at the dirt with his uncut hand, pulling the loose soil away from the roots of his discovery.  The roots weren't very deep, and he soon had them free.  He scooped the small plant up in his hand and slowly stood.

"I'll take care of you.  I'll feed you every day," he hissed breathlessly.  "Would you like that?"  The plant curled its little roots around his fingers.

Arthur Denton cupped his new friend to his chest and started again for home, his step much more lively than before.

"We're going to be great friends," he murmured as he fairly skipped along.  ". . . I wonder what your name is?"

\--

The End


End file.
